


The Tales of Toussaint

by TheNextPage



Series: Draxlembe / The PSG Prompt Page [11]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Ch3 reveals the AU world of paediatrician Julian and Footballer Pres, Finally, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, M/M, and a little sexy in parts, and prompts i guess - i'm open to prompts, do they walk first then talk, draxlembe, draxpembe, enter Baby Toussaint, i dunno, in Ch3 baby has asthma, it's all super cute, just go with it, nothing but pure baby fluff, or vice versa?, the baby's age is never defined because I don't know how babies age, the boys raising a family, the family fic, the two boys in love, there will be a touch of naughtiness, this will be added to as the warmth and feels overtake me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNextPage/pseuds/TheNextPage
Summary: Toussaint and his two Dads: Papa Presnel and Daddy Jules





	1. Sleepy Baby

**Author's Note:**

> The context is around the French Cup Final against Rennes. PSG lost 6-5 on penalties. Pres scored an own goal, Kylian was red-carded during extra time.  
[There's a companion piece with Ney/Kylian for the same game. The game was a shambles but provided various prompts to write on!]

Jules had given Pres a quick squeeze before he hopped into his car and headed home. Well... he was headed to Pres’ home but technically, it was his too. That’s where the baby was. And that’s all he wanted. He wanted to see the baby, hold him and drown in all that infant innocence and exciting prospect of a future unknown. 

Pres had ambled off with the rest of the French lads, all undoubtedly headed to Kylian’s to try raise his spirits from the doldrums. He had been raging and crying in the dressing room after his sending off and the subsequent loss. Julian was convinced that the only panacea Kylian required for his emotions in tumult and broken heart, was Neymar. Pres likely knew it too, but perhaps they wanted to feel like they had tried towards their young colleague. 

Jules has whispered ‘An hour’ to Pres as he had walked off. He wanted Pres home within an hour at most! Nothing worthwhile was going to happen after that initial hour. And Pres had his own emotions to sort through after the game. Julian had clearly seen the hurt, anger, guilt and confusion, the nagging thoughts and doubts about the impact of that own goal. They would need to discuss that, talk about and unpack it so that Pres could leave It behind. Julian was getting far too good at this. He didn’t want to keep losing... but in all honesty, this was an easy loss to accept. 

These were the peaceful thoughts that had reign over Jules mind as he walked into the house. He checked the baby monitor and saw the baby was still fast asleep. He would poke his head in just to see him for a moment, then go take his shower. 

_Perfection._ That was the only thought Julian ever had when he looked at the baby. Adorable round cheeks, big eyes (now peacefully closed) fanned by long eyelashes. The subtlest baby pout - the baby had inherited Pres mouth for sure. Undoubtedly he would have an equally big smile. Soft skin, and chubby preciousness. Jules felt his heart swell with love: _this beautiful little human_. He kissed his forehead gently and walked out the room, sure he would sleep through the night. 

Emerging refreshed but sleepy from his shower, he checked the baby monitor again and was surprised to see the baby awake and blowing bubbles, ticking his own toes above his head. He wasn’t a particularly rambunctious babe; he only made noise if he felt ignored for long periods of time. 

Jules tiptoed bck in, gently cooing to alert Toussaint tht he wasn’t alone anymore. 

“Hey beautiful...what’s going on?!” Baby raised his hands up, waiting to be picked up, a gummy smile beaming back at Jules. 

Carrying him downstairs, Jules ensured to make eye contact often, along with rubbing little circles onto his back and nuzzling him soflty. If he felt soothed he would likely fall asleep again quickly. 

“Siri, set the lights to Sleepy Baby”

Siri responded in German as Jules had instructed, “Setting the lights to Sleepy Baby”.

There was a Schalke game that he had recorded earlier, he could likely catch-up with it now, until Pres returned. But Baby was staring at him in mild amusement and open wonder, so Jules stared back, smiling and laughing and planting kisses on his round cheeks as the moment lead him. 

Pres turned the key in the lock, walking in. The lights were set low - likely Jules was in and waiting up.

“Hey babe, I'm home.”

“Hi baby, hello. Aren't you sleepy?! You are sleepy huh?!”

“Yeah, I’d be good to sleep. How long have you been up? Thanks for waiting!” 

“Go on and just close your eyes love, go ahead and float!”

Pres rounded the corner, wondering why Jules was giving him baby-level responses. 

“Why you answering me like I’m... _Oh_!” Pres loved seeing them together. Tous must have woken up, thus the dim lights and the cooing and baby answers. 

“Allo!” Pres leaned over the couch, angling for a kiss. He warmed on the inside, seeing a sleepy smile returned. “Hi to you too,” Pres kissed Jules cheek, lingering there for a moment. 

“Come to bed soon?!” Pres stretched, whispering so as not to excite Tous. 

“You aren’t even sleepy,” Jules smiled back over his shoulder. 

“I didn’t say anything about sleeping.” Pres voice was low and seductive. 

Julian tried to suppress a thrill that ran through him. “I’ll put him down in a bit. I’ll be right there.”

Toussaint reached up and gently slapped Jules, his uncoordinated way of turning Jules face to him, seeking intimate eye contact. 

“Fine fine, I’m here I’m here,” Jules turned back to him. “I’ll give you all my attention before I go upstairs and wear your Daddy out!”

Toussaint gently smiled, mollified that Julian was looking squarely at him, the sexy insinuation lost on him entirely. 


	2. Sure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How can you be sure?” Jules murmured, licking his lips, “That you like men.”
> 
> Pres shrugged, casually replying “I’m not sure I do.”
> 
> Jules blanched at the counter, a mild shiver cascading over him.

“How can you be sure?”

Kim was chopping up fruit for breakfast. It was already warm and it wasn’t even 9am yet. He casually popped a strawberry in his mouth, shrugging.

“What do you mean?”

Jules was dicing up mushrooms and ham to go into a morning quiche. “How can you be sure that you like men? I mean… you have Toussaint.”

At the sound of his name, the baby came running into the kitchen, grabbing at Jules legs.

He opened and closed his mouth, pointing comically in dramatic pantomime to be fed. “Hungry!” he declared, flailing his arms, looking to be picked up and fed.

Jules beamed down at him - this precious little boy who had his whole heart. Jules couldn’t even pinpoint the moment that occurred.

Jules hoisted him onto his hip and nuzzled his nose – their love kisses – and walked him over to Pres who was now arranging fruit on a platter.

Pres smiled at the two loves of his life – blushing at the thought; ‘when had he fallen in love with Jules? - before peppering Toussaint with kisses.

“My bebe!”

“Papa!” the little one replied, giggling in glee. “Fruits!”

Pres offered his son a segment of orange, two strawberries and half a passion fruit.

Toussaint in turn shoved the orange segment into Jules mouth before nibbling on one strawberry. He handed the other back to his Papa. He remained with the passion fruit in his hands.

“What this?” he waved the fruit towards Jules.

“How do you say passion fruit?” he asked Pres.

“The questions you ask today… they make no sense.”

“Some people call it granadilla.”

_“We are not those people.”_

Toussaint watched in childish wonder as his Papa and his Daddy talked back and forth. And all the while, he held the sweet-smelling orange and deep purple thing in his hands.

He decided to put it in his mouth.

“Oohh!” Toussaint exclaimed as the tangy sweetness exploded over his tastebuds.

“Ah ah!” Jules grabbed the wrinkly peel Toussaint was about to start gnawing on. “We don’t eat this part!”

The baby allowed Jules to wrestle the skin from his lips before he wiggled to be set back down on the floor.

“Ok. Playing now.” He took the remainder of his passion fruit and headed back outside, sucking and slurping the enchanting stringy flesh into his mouth. “Yummy!” he proclaimed, dropping the empty skin at the patio doors before he started running through the sprinklers as was his wont.

Pres brushed Jules lips with a piece of strawberry, before popping the fruit into his own mouth. He leant forward and stole a quick kiss.

“How can you be sure?” Jules murmured, licking his lips, “That you like men.”

Pres shrugged, casually replying “I’m not sure I do.”

Jules blanched at the counter, a mild shiver cascading over him.

“I play professional football. I am surrounded by men everyday. Physios touch me, rubbing my legs, massaging my back, teammates hug me, walk around me undressed… but I don’t think I like men… not any of them.”

Jules mouth pressed inot a firm line, his eyes welling with tears.

“I don’t look at men and feel anything: excitement, want or desire.”

“I see, well…” Jules began, his cracking voice barely a whisper.

“But then, I look at you,” Pres continued, unperturbed, “I can just think about you and I feel… E*V*E*R*Y*T*H*I*N*G.” His smile was luminous, eyes twinkling in mirth. “When you look at me, it’s like you see only me, not the footballer, not the father. Just me, but maybe a little better than I am…or better like I could be. When you touch me – just your hand in mine – feels so right, like I was only ever meant to do this with you. When you kiss me… Jules when you kiss me, I want your lips everywhere. I want to hear the way you sigh when my hands are on your body, the way you don’t breathe properly when I’m up against you. Jules, all of you inspires so much in all of me.

So I’m not sure if I like men Jules. But I know, vraiment, that I lov… like you.”

There were tears running down Jules face, but unlike before, he was struggling to supress a smile.

“Is that enough certainty for you Jules?”

Nodding profusely, Jules rounded the counter and caught Pres up in a deep hug.

“Thank you”

“For what Jules?!”

“Tout de toi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a favourite fic of mine. and now, with all this new domestic-draxlembe content being dribbled onto social media, i wanted to add to the general feels.
> 
> These ares stand-alone tales btw. non-linear. Just tiny gems that popped up as and when


	3. The Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They saw the puppies dragging Toussaint away from the sprinklers, their barking muffled by the toddler’s shirt they had in their jaws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally AU.  
This story is set in a world where Julian is a paediatrician and Pres is still a football player, Toussaint is at a playschool where Julian is the in-house Dr and the baby has asthma.

**Toussaint was playing outside, running back and forth through the sprinklers in the kind of unmitigated glee that only children know. The two dogs were outside with him, yipping in chorus with his baby giggles and trying to snatch droplets of water from the air.**

Pres was in the kitchen, trying his hand at cooking. His mother had already left a detailed recipe, which Pres would only occasionally glance at.

“So I’ve watched Maman make this of course, so I have a general idea of what should be happening.”

“Do you usually cook?”

“No. I have to have a nutritionist. So him and Maman fight in the kitchen, competing to make the best dish. 

And you? What does a doctor-teacher eat usually?”

Jules laughed gently, taking a sip of his beer. “It depends on the season. So now that we’re finally coming into spring, it’s more salads, light meals, tapas almost. Lots of vegetables, raw things quite often. But I often cheat…”

Jules crashed his beer down heavily, barely angling the bottle on the tabletop before he was up and running outside, digging in his pockets.

Pres had stopped chopping, and was looking outside in the direction where Jules was heading, already starting to dash out. He fumbled at the dining room table for something as he continued running out, mere footfalls behind Jules.

He saw the puppies dragging Toussaint away from the sprinklers, their barking muffled by the toddler’s shirt they had in their jaws.

Julian was outside and picking up the baby who was coughing and wheezing, trying to catch his breath and stand up from the dragging motion of his pets.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a reliever inhaler, pulling off the cap with his teeth. He had seated Toussaint on his knee, even as the sprinklers soaked his back and the puppies barked pitifully at his heels. He was rubbing small circles on the baby’s back, tilting his head back and whispering for him to try take slow breaths.

Pres was outside and standing beside them, eager to grab up his son except he realised Toussaint was in the most capable hands at the moment. He pocketed the inhaler he had also picked up on his way out the door, standing and watching on as Jules shook out the canister, sprayed one pump into the air as a tester and then placed the nozzle into the baby’s mouth. “Just like at school. Take a breath.” He said as he depressed the canister, administering a puff of stimulant into the baby’s mouth.

He continued rubbing circles on Toussaint’s back, his head tilted slightly back to open up his airways as far as possible. “Look at me, are you ok? Ca va cher?”

Toussaint’s wheezing had ceased, and his breathing came out in slow, rattled breaths. He nodded his head sedately, big brown eyes staring up at Jules and his father past his shoulder.

Jules wrapped the baby up in his arms, holding him tightly as he stood to rise. He came face to face with Pres behind him. _He hadn’t even realised he was there._

“He’s fine. Just a little shortness of breath huh. But he’s ok. Aren’t you, bebe?”

Toussaint’s head nodded minutely, draped over Jules shoulder. His little arms clung around Jules neck and he seemed content to rest there for a moment.

“I think your Dad want’s a hug too.” Jules could read the fear and worry in Pres face, eyes wide and concern sketched across his features.

“He’s fine. He’s all fine. Nothing terrible happened. We’re all okay.”

Toussaint turned in Jules arms, stretching one arm out to allow Pres to join the hug already ensuing. Jules tried to hand the baby over but Toussaint started fussing, clutching tighter onto Jules with his baby might.

“Ok, ok. We all hug together. It’s fine.” Jules readjusted his grip, balancing the baby in his arms whilst allowing Pres as much access to his son as his worried heart needed.

They stood in the garden, hugging on Toussaint as the puppies quietened down and the sprinklers continued shooting streams of water against Pres and Jules legs.

It was several minutes later, with Toussaint now attached to Jules like a limpet, that Pres returned to the cooking. Toussaint was reclining against Jules chest, a box juice in his baby hands, as he watched Pres move around the kitchen cooking, Jules bordering him on all sides.

Toussaint enjoyed this: his Papa at the kitchen, chopping up things at the counter and looking up at him, smiling often; Jules warm and present behind him. He stretched, yawned then curled up against Jules and handed him the almost-empty carton. “La,” he implored Jules who took the carton and made to set it down.

“Nnnoooo! Jus!”

Jules nodding in understanding, took a hearty sip of the juice, exclaiming his delight. Toussaint was content, leaning back firmly against Jules and closing his eyes to nap briefly.

He had been scared outside. When he couldn’t breathe properly, but then Jules had arrived with the same medicine he had at school. And then he was less scared. Because he did this every day. And Papa was there: though he looked scared. But only because he didn’t know that they knew exactly what to do: take a deep breath and then relax, breathe normally and wait until he felt good again. Right after he took a breath, he would get a little airy and light, but then he knew his lungs were opening like big-ship sails and he was able to play and laugh and run around. And then after lunch, he would go and get one more big breath. Today had felt different; he had started coughing and it was like trying to take a breath through a straw underwater. But then Dr Julian had arrived and he felt safe.

“I’m going to have NormALieu get inhalers for every room in the house. And one for every person.”

“That is a good idea. Better have too many than not enough. And everyone should practice with him, so that if he needs your help no-one hesitates.”

“Do you have asthma, is that why you had an inhaler on hand?”

Jules placed a kiss on Toussaint’s forehead, an automatic reaction to the sight of the resting baby on his chest. “No. But I know he has asthma and I wanted to be prepared. Always.” 

Pres looked up at Jules questioningly, but then all thought fled as he saw the amount of love and care on Jules face, looking down at his son. 

“He really cares for you, my son.”

“I love him too. He’s so…” Jules caught himself, realising what he had said. “I mean…” he blushed profusely.

Pres allowed him to flounder for a moment, enjoying the innocent flustering. He returned to his diri ak djon djon, unable to repress the smile at Jules words.


End file.
